


Oneiromancing

by dark_pookha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, Dream Sex, F/F, F/M, Oneiromancy, Sexual Fantasy, Shell Cottage, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 12:09:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19905484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_pookha/pseuds/dark_pookha
Summary: During their stay at Shell Cottage, Dean discovers he's an Oneiromancer and can enter other people's dreams. He and Luna start a relationship that will take them from reality to dream and back.Dream sex included.





	Oneiromancing

Oneiromancing

“Your dreams are loud.”

“I...what?” I asked, losing my train of thought. I had been telling Dean about Nargles and how to protect himself from them.

He reached over and grabbed both of my hands in his and repeated.

“Your dreams are loud.”

His hands were warm around mine and the heat from them was slowly creeping up my arm.

“I can see your dreams when I’m sleeping,” he said. “I don’t mean to, but I can’t control it.”

I started to speak, but he kept going.

“Last night you were walking in some grassy hills and came over one of them and saw a house that looked like a small castle tower. I could feel how happy you were to be there, and as you opened the gate to the garden, I saw some orange berries or fruit growing upside-down on a bush. You paused and ate one and I could taste the sweet citrus flavor of it. A man was looking out the window at you and you loved him. He had fluffy white hair to his shoulder. It had to be your dad…” he trailed off.

“I was dreaming that last night. I wanted to dream of Daddy, so I prepared myself with a lucid dreaming technique. It takes a bit of practice, but I’ve gotten pretty good at it over the years and I can control my dreams to some extent.” The warmth from his hands was now spilling over my upper arm.

“I…” he started to talk, then stopped. We just sat there and looked at each other for a moment. I could feel my neck flushing red with the heat that was now oozing up over my shoulder.

“It’s weird,” he said. “I’ve known for a while now that I could hear other people’s dreams but I’ve never seen one so clearly before.”

“It’s called Oneiromancy, and you could probably hear it because of the way I went about making sure I could have that dream and control what was happening in it. Sorry if it bothered you; I can try to dream more quietly if you want.” My face was starting to feel warm.

“No, don’t do that.” He squeezed my hands gently. “I enjoyed the feeling of...of home, I guess.”

“You can watch my dreams anytime you want,” I told him, my face now fully flaming red.  
He smiled; I smiled. I squeezed his hands back.

“You called it Oneiromancy?” he asked.

I nodded. “Oneiromancers can watch dreams, enter them and sometimes control them. It’s pretty rare, more rare than being a Metamorphmagus. Most Oneiromancers become Mind Healers and try to help people overcome their fears through dreams or help them try to achieve their goals. They guide people and lead them through dreams. When did it first start?”

“I think it must have started when I was little. I can remember seeing some of my Mum’s dreams and a man who I think must have been my Dad in them. I just can’t remember him. Then at Hogwarts I could sometimes see the other boys’ dreams. Neville rarely had any loud dreams, but sometimes I could tell he was having a nightmare. Ron was hard to read. I could see Harry was dreaming, but his dreams were veiled off for some reason. I could see Seamus’s dreams the clearest. I told him about it once and he kind of freaked out so I never brought it up again.”

I nodded. The warmth was fading now to a warm glow that was suffusing my body.

“You could see his dreams better because you love him.”

He started to object but I cut him off.

“You may not love him romantically, but you love him as a friend. He’s your best friend and you’d do anything to protect him?” I made it a question.

He thought for a moment. “Yeah,” he said finally.

“Do you know how I can learn to control it?” he asked.

“Practice?” I said doubtfully. “I really don’t know; like I said, it’s pretty rare. Maybe Hermione would know more. I’m always surprised both by what she does and doesn’t know”

“They’re always holed up with that goblin lately,” he said. “I don’t want to disturb them.”

“Yeah, they’re working on something rather important.” I meant trying to defeat Voldemort, but it must have come out more glibly than I meant it to.

He pulled his hands away, but the warmth from them kept flowing over me. This is what it felt like in the Room of Requirement when Ginny had kissed me.

“That’s not funny,” he said.

“Sorry, it wasn’t meant to be funny. I do really mean it’s important. It’s probably the most important thing right now. We should help them if we can, but they don’t really want our help.”

He snorted. “Yeah, they’re trying to ‘protect’ us. When Harry faces off with Voldemort, I get the feeling we’ll all be in danger regardless.”

I reached over and grabbed his hands back.

“We can do it together; you and me and the D.A.” I smiled and squeezed his hands. He intertwined his fingers with mine and squeezed back.

Later, Harry, Ron and Hermione were passing by as Dean and I sat near a gnarled tree at the edge of the beach.

“Hermione!” I called. “May I ask you a question?”

She came over to me. “I’ll catch up to you in a moment,” she told Ron, who smiled at her. It was good to see them together; they were made for each other.

Ron nodded and trudged off after Harry. Harry looked grim, like he had since Dobby had rescued us and given his life. I still felt sad about that; I had seen Dobby around Hogwarts and never knew that he was Harry’s friend.

“What do you know about Oneiromancy?” I asked Hermione when she got close. Dean looked up, surprised.

Hermione thought for a moment. “Not much. Oneiromancers can enter dreams, they work as Healers usually, though not all. It’s a really rare ability and one that you have to be careful with or you can be caught in someone’s nightmare. There’s an Institute in Lyons where there’s a trainer, I think. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” I lied breezily, just in case Dean didn’t want to be outed. “Thank you.”

“Seriously, though, I wouldn’t mess with it,” she warned. “It’s dangerous.” She looked lost in thought for a moment and I could tell it somehow related to what they were doing. Then it came to me; Harry had some kind of mental connection with Voldemort. It made sense and explained so much. It probably also explained why his dreams were veiled from Dean. I wanted to ask her how Harry was connected to Voldemort, but I could see she was closed off about it.

“I’m not an Oneiromancer; don’t worry,” I told her. “Thanks again.”

She jogged off after Harry and Ron up toward the cottage.

“Thank you,” Dean said and slid up closer to me so our shoulders were touching.

“When you were dreaming of home and saw your Dad, I could feel how peaceful you were,” Dean said after a while.

“It is very nice there. Daddy keeps the garden up and always manages to put out the Quibbler, too.” I smiled at the thought. “He has the energy of a young man.”

“What happened to your mother, if you don’t mind me asking?” Dean grabbed my hand again.

“She was researching new Charms to help people who wanted to permanently change their gender, but something went wrong and she died,” I said simply. Most people couldn’t catch the sadness in my voice, but Dean did (and Harry had somewhat when I simply told him she died doing spell research). I told Dean about all of it; how my mother had always felt she was a man and my dad had told her he’d love her no matter what: man or woman.

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” he said. “I can tell it upsets you.”

I started to object, but he squeezed my hand in a way that I interpreted as, ‘it’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to.’

“I would do anything to be able to be at peace like you are,” he said. His hand shook in mine. “I never knew my Dad and my Mum will only tell me that he was a wizard, but no specifics.”

“She’s probably trying to protect you from something,” I said sliding even closer up to him.

“Yeah, I know, but it’s still hard not knowing.” He leaned his head on my shoulder and I could feel his warm breath on my neck and ear. It began to warm me like his hands had earlier, spreading down my neck and chest over my belly and legs and also over my face at the same time. I could feel something beginning here.

“I know she said it’s dangerous, but would you like to try to see my dream tonight?” I asked. My face started flaming again.

“I’d like to try,” he said after a while. “I’d like to learn to control it if I can.”

That night I put on pyjamas that I’d borrowed from Fleur. She’d altered them to fit me better, but the silk of them felt strange to me still; I usually just slept in my knickers at home and in cotton pyjamas when I was at Hogwarts. I sat on my bed and tried to go through my visualization exercises so I could ensure I was dreaming of home and seeing dad, but I was distracted by the soft feel of the silk on my breasts and thighs. I chased my thoughts around my head for a bit and finally managed to get the proper picture of home in my head. Then I laid down and started to fall asleep. I vaguely noticed that Hermione hadn’t joined me in the room yet, then I went further under. As I drifted into Morpheus’s embrace, my mental image shifted from home and Daddy in the window to Dean holding my hand across the table and his lips slowly descending to mine…

_I knew I was dreaming, and this wasn’t the dream I intended. I started to pull back and try to wake up, then Dean’s lips touched mine and I lost myself in the flood of warmth that spilled over all of me at once. Every pore on my skin prickled and all my arm hair stood on end. Our mouths opened and the kiss deepened. I started to pull back and his hand touched the back of my head. He didn’t push, but he let me know that he wanted to continue. I did, too._

_He slid his mouth from mine to my cheek and then my neck. The warmth became heat and I knew I wanted him. I must have wanted someone for so long and not realized. I flashed back to the Room of Requirement when Ginny and I huddled in bed. We were so scared. She shook and cried and I held her. Neville was off in the castle, probably trying to rescue some younger students from the Carrows. Then she lifted her head and kissed me. It was different from this dream-kiss with Dean; it was more fierce and fiery, and Dean’s was more longing and home-like. Her lips were embers and Dean’s were the sun on grass._

_I fell back into the embrace with Dean. He took my earlobe into his mouth and I moaned. I moved one of his hands to my breast._

_“Are you sure?” he whispered in my ear._

_“Yes,” I breathed and he squeezed gently. In my waking mind, I could feel the silk slid on my hard nipples as Dean roamed my breasts through my clothing. I pulled back and slid my shirt over my head, I wasn’t wearing a bra (another way I knew it was a dream). He lowered his head to me and started kissing down my chest. When his tongue hit my nipple I wrapped his head in my hands and pulled him to me closer._

_Then I felt his presence enter my dream. It wasn’t just dream-Dean, but actually Dean inside the dream construct._   
_“This is not the dream you told me you were going to have,” he said, lifting his head from my chest. He sat back on the bench. I grabbed my shirt and put it back on. His eyes flashed, disappointed._

_“Sorry,” I said. “I was distracted by what I was feeling earlier and these silk pyjamas. They’re like being caressed all over all the time.”_

_“It’s all right,” he said. He smiled. “I think if I were to dream on my own tonight, this is what I’d dream, too.”_

_“I never thought of you like this before today,” I told him._

_“Nor I,” he said. “I think part of it’s the war; just being around someone who can give you human contact.”_

_My smile faded a bit and he noticed. I knew then he could feel what I was feeling. I pushed all those emotions out and he gasped as it overwhelmed him. His eyes widened and his arm muscles corded with strain._

_“It might be some of that,” I said, “but that’s not all there is. I want you. I want to see where this goes. If we’re meant to be and we never took the chance, it would be bad.”_

_He relaxed, then suddenly he projected his feelings onto me. Lust was foremost (as it was with myself, if I’m being honest); then the need to be touched, held; then it was all the fear, concern, and doubt he felt about everything. It was my turn to gasp as his lust fired back on me in a feedback loop. His fear met my solid belief that everything would turn out and they met and mingled. I fell back into his arms and somehow my shirt was off again._

When I woke, I tried not to wake up Hermione, but she heard me moving around. Her eyes flickered.

“What time izzet?” she asked muzzily.

“Not sure,” I said, “but, it’s before dawn. Sorry I woke you.” I changed out of the sweat-soaked pyjamas and laid them on the bed to air out. I started to get dressed.

“That was some dream you were having when I came in,” she said, waking up more. “You were talking in your sleep.”

“Sorry,” I said again.

She smiled under her tousled brown hair. “Dean’s a good person. Let him know how you feel.”

“Oh, he knows,” I told her. “Go back to sleep.”

When I got down the stairs, Dean was already waiting for me on the couch. We kissed. We talked until the rest of the house woke up in a few hours.

* * *

I sighed internally. I could see the caption on the monitor as I spoke and it was just what I expected.

_Luna Lovegood-- ‘Cryptozoologist’_

Another show where I had been invited to give the view of the ‘believers.’ Another time I was sent out by the Department of Disinformation. I was to present the view that cryptids and other magical creatures were real (which, of course, they _are)_. I was told by the Ministry to just be myself and the job would be effective. I thought at first that I was there to just create doubt in Muggles’s minds, but really Muggles listened to me and thought I was a nutter and _that_ created the doubt the Ministry wanted. It paid well and I needed the money now that Daddy had sold the Quibbler, but it was starting to grate on me not to be taken seriously. I also realized that perhaps Dean’s feelings were starting to invade on mine; maybe we’d been overdoing the Oneiromancy.

I interrupted the other presenter, an Oxford Don, biologist, and well-known atheist.

“Excuse me,” I said, “what you’re describing is a Sasquatch; Bigfoot is a colloquial term used to describe a variety of cryptids.” I used the Muggle term ‘cryptid’ as I had been instructed.

“Thank you for the correction,” the Don said obsequiously, earning a laugh from the studio audience. “As I was saying, Bigfoot simply does not exist.” He emphasized ‘Bigfoot’ with his inflection, earning another laugh from the audience. “All the evidence we have collected has been proven to be a hoax or a genuine believer that has mistaken another animal for a Sasquatch.” This time, he used the proper term, but pronounced it like he was unfamiliar with it. The audience laughed again and I flushed red.

The rest of the interview went much the same way. I had points; he refuted them. I had examples; he had proof they weren’t real or had been misconstrued. The evidence the Department of Disinformation had planted for Muggles to find was doing its job and everything I said had an easy explanation from the Don. I was tempted to pull my wand from my pocket and start casting Charms on the set to make his microphone dance; or to Apparate home, get my Kneazle, Zephira, and let her loose on the set; or maybe my pet hippogriff, Fred. I smiled, picturing the Don gaping open-mouthed at Fred and having to re-think all of his preconceptions.

Finally, the interminable interview was over. I ripped the microphone off and yanked the battery pack from the back of my shirt. The Don tried to shake my hand, but I brushed him off. Now I knew for sure that I was getting leakage from some of Dean’s emotions. I stalked off the set and down the hallway to the Green Room with the Don hot on my heels. He’d forgotten to disconnect his battery pack and he got yanked back. By the time he’d disconnected, I was in the Green Room with my wand out.

He came into the room and saw me with my wand out. “Wait, Ms Lovegood. I’m sorry if I came off a bit pompous, but I’ve got to know if you’re just trolling or if you really believe in what you’re saying.”

“Explain this,” I told him and Disapparated. I’d get chewed out by my boss (again) and the Don would need to be Obliviated, but it was so worth it.

I appeared on the outskirts of Ottery St Catchpole and started walking home. The air was sweet and it was overcast, but warm. I spun and breathed in, then out, then in, then out, calming myself. I undid my hair and let it loose, then put my wand behind my ear. My Muggle clothes felt tight and I was ready to get home and get into some comfortable robes. I looked around, and no one was watching, so I pulled my hands inside my shirt and unhooked my bra. I slid it out a sleeve and opened my purse. Red silk and lace slid into the purse’s black lining creating a nice contrast. I slipped my shoes off and then my socks. The socks got stuffed into the purse, then I shrank the shoes with a Charm and put them in as well.

Barefoot, I walked toward home. I had a cottage near Daddy’s rook-shaped house and not too far from the Burrow. I was enjoying the air and the feel of the well-maintained grassy lane on my feet when I heard a noise. My wand leapt into my hand when I reached behind my ear; Harry’s lessons with the DA had done me good. I scanned the area, looking for the sound. I heard it again and it was coming from behind a low hedge. I saw the hedge move and lowered my wand, readying it.

A large black rooster came out from behind the hedge and strutted toward me. Its bright red wattles swung as it moved and the comb on its head leaned back and forth. It saw me and stopped in the path. I had seen this rooster before and greeted it like an old friend.

“Hello,” I said and knelt in the road. It ran up to me, clucking and bucking. It jumped into my arms, careful not to get me with its spurs. I hugged it to me, enjoying the warmth of the sun on its feathers and the clean smell of it. Chickens didn’t usually smell clean, but this one always smelled of the outdoors.

_“Buck. Buck. Buck. Buck. Fuck?”_ it said in my ear, then tilted its head to look at me with each eye. I smiled and hugged it a bit tighter. I’m pretty sure I was projecting my own feelings on its last cluck.

“You’re silly,” I told it. I kissed it on top of its comb and let it go. As I stood it puffed out and crowed loudly.

“Yes, you crow,” I told it.

It looked at me, tilting its head again, before running back into the hedge and the undergrowth.

This rooster had always been a good omen for me before, and it had dispelled the mood of the interview and the snickering from the audience and the Don. I skipped the rest of the way home, lost in reverie. My mind went back to nights with Dean, days with Harry and Ginny and their children, the air in my garden, the warm purring of Zephira as she kneaded on my leg, the happy gobbling of Fred the hippogriff as he ate. Soon I was home. There was a letter from Dean waiting for me on the stoop. I took my time reading it and imagined I could smell him on the parchment. I was going to see him later in my dreams, but this actual, physical object reminded me that he was still here, just separated by the Channel...and most of France.

The sun was just setting behind some hills as I unlocked the door. I let myself in, set my purse down and got my bra, socks and shoes out from it. I regrew the shoes to normal size and threw all three of them on the couch. I made sure the windows were closed and then stripped of my slacks and shirt. I wandered into the kitchen in just my knickers and got some cold water and some rice and beans from the icebox. Zephira came wandering in, tail up and mewed at me. I made sure she had some food and water, and gave her some good scratchings after she sniffed me over.

I heated my beans and rice with my wand, found I had overheated it, and while it cooled, I dug in the icebox for some wine instead and abandoned my water. The wine was cool and crisp, nice and dry to go with my plain dinner.

An owl pecked at my door. I put on a robe that I kept over a chair and opened it. The brown owl flew in and dropped a red ribboned scroll on my table. I gave the owl a treat and it flew through the door into the cool evening air. I slit the ribbon on the scroll and read it. Just what I expected; they’d had to Obliviate the Don and I was going to receive another official reprimand. Another one and I’d be out of work again. I crumpled the scroll, lit it on fire with my wand and held it until the corner I was holding almost burnt my hand, then I shook it out.

It was time to get prepared for later, so I dug into my special box of potions supplies and got out some of my dried psychoactive mushrooms. I ran through the recipe in my head and made the smallest amount that would have the effect I needed. I cut it with some other ingredients from my kit that I knew would lessen the side-effects and the after headache. I made some tea with it and choked it down. It did not taste good.

Zephira followed me as I went into the bath and took a shower. I luxuriated in the warm steam for a while, letting the water play over my body. When I was done, I dried my hair quickly with my wand, which I knew would frizz it out, but I didn’t care. I looked at myself in the mirror. I had tanned some on my trip with Dean to Cornwall, but I was still pale. I rubbed some lotion on my elbows and knees, and then as an after-thought, I dabbed some floral perfume behind my neck. I could feel the tea starting to have its effects and the world was getting slightly wibbly-wobbly.

I walked naked to my bedroom and lay on my bed. I smiled, knowing that I’d have good dreams, especially if I guided them with my lucid dreaming technique and the psilocybin. I raised my hands over my head and ran them through my tangled hair. I slid them down my face and over my ears and neck. When they went over my breasts, I pinched each nipple lightly and rubbed them gently. I slid one hand down my stomach. I glided it over the hair and spread my legs as I reached my clit. I began to rub it softly as my mind started to wander.

_Dean flashed into my mind, his face buried between my legs and his tongue moving rhythmically. One of his hands grasped my left breast and tweaked its nipple, gently at first then more firmly. His other hand clasped me behind my butt and pulled me more into his mouth._

_Then my fantasy flipped from what had been real to pure fantasy. Harry had replaced Dean between my legs and Ginny straddled my face, holding onto the headboard. I dipped my tongue in and out of her slick pussy, with her writhing each time I hit her clit. I reached my hands up to cup her breasts as she grinded on me. Harry lifted his face and knelt in front of me. I couldn’t see him around Ginny, but I felt it as he explored me with his fingers. Thumb on my clit, he slid two fingers into me. He began to fuck me with them as his thumb circled my clit. The pressure was building and the warmth began to spread from my core. He knew I was close and he increased his speed and also pressed forward with his fingers, hitting the spot that he knew made me writhe. I came, gasping and moaning into Ginny. Harry’s fingers came out of me and he shifted on the bed. Suddenly, he was fully inside me and I moaned my pleasure into Ginny’s pussy._

_My mind shifted back to what I had been dreaming originally and then it was Dean inside me, filling me completely. He fucked me slowly and gently, watching my face as his hips moved. He leaned forward and kissed me, our tongues darting around each other. He kissed down my neck and over my breasts, then he took a nipple in his mouth. He bit it softly as he fucked me, then he bit it harder as he pumped faster. With every stroke, my hips came off the bed, meeting his thrusts. I slid a hand down to my clit and rubbed it as we fucked. His breath grew more ragged and I knew he was close. I told him to come._

_He pushed in as far as he could and I watched as he came. His eyes slitted and his muscles went rigid and relaxed, rigid and relaxed. He stayed inside me as he grew soft and I kept rubbing my clit. He noticed and he pulled out. He knelt next to me and put his fingers in me. I watched as he stroked me; he knew just where to put pressure and where to be gentle. It wasn’t long before I was coming again, thrashing and bucking over his hand._

I pulled my hand out from my pussy, licked my juices off, enjoying my own musky scent and taste. The bed was wet underneath me, but I didn’t change the sheets because I knew more was to come. I rose, opened the window and stood naked in front of it. If anyone had been looking, they could have had a show, but I suspect no one was. A cool breeze played around me, making my nipples hard again. After a few minutes, I laid down on my bed again and turned out the lights with my wand. As I fell asleep, Dean’s face kept flashing into my sight, smiling and laughing.

I fell asleep. A dark well grasped me and pulled me down. A glow started slowly in my vision, then grew to my bedroom by candlelight. I knew I was in a dream and waited. I was already wet with anticipation and my fingers slid between my legs.

When the shadowy shape appeared in my window, I was already well on my way. I could feel its, no his, amorphous figure watching me. He stretched his long legs and sat on the windowsill, watching me stroke myself. My orgasm came quickly this time and he flowed spectrally onto the bed to watch as I quivered and shook.

He was a specter with only a vaguely human form. A shadow made flesh, long and thin as the candlelight stretched him, and he flickered in time with it. A snap from the candle flame made him grow short then tall again to his full stature. When Dean and I came together in dreams, he often took this shape for me. I don’t know why it aroused me, but it was cold and warm at the same time, like a piece of stone that is cool to the touch at first and then warms to your body heat when you hold it.

A cold tendril of a hand touched my breast, running an icy finger over my nipple. I moaned at the pleasure-pain of it. He smiled, a solid row of white teeth breaking up the shadowy image. I could just make out Dean’s face when he did that. Those white teeth descended on a nipple and his red, red tongue came out and licked it. He clamped his mouth over it and ran his tongue over me. His other hand kept working my other nipple, pinching with gentleness then force. His cold fingers were warming as they caressed me. The hand that had been on my breast slid down and I gasped as a finger brushed my clit. It had grown icy again. I shifted slightly to give him a better angle and he slid a long finger inside me. It probed me inside in a way a penis never could. He searched around with it carefully until he found the spot inside me and began to fuck me with that long, slender finger, returning again and again to that same spot. I came again.

His voice came from a long way off.

“I love watching you come. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered back, pulling his hand away from me. I sat up and pushed on him; my hands sunk into his shadowy amorphous flesh. He saw what I was up to and shifted with me. I pushed him down and straddled him, his cock hard beneath me.

I slid up against him, not taking him in, but only sliding his length on the outside of my pussy. I reached behind me and cupped his balls, being a bit rougher than I would have if he’d been here in person. He moaned and silvery shadows flowed from his mouth. I leaned over him and sucked the shadows into my mouth. When I did, I could see all the times we’d been together. A trip to Cornwall, a summer visiting Bill and Fleur at Shell Cottage, making love on the beach, practicing with the DA at Hogwarts, a stolen kiss at work, a quickie at a hotel in London, drinking wine on a boat, leaning on each other as we read on the couch too tired to sleep.

I came out of the visions and shifted my hips slightly. He followed my lead and rocked down. I could feel the tip of him just outside me, icy like the rest of him. I slid down onto him and let him in. It was cold, cold, cold, but quickly warmed as he squeezed inside me, filling me. I rocked up and then back down quickly. He caught the rhythm and we made love slowly and carefully. He sank further into me with each thrust. I could feel him just as I could when we were together in the real world. I could smell him like he was really here. Spectral hands touched my breasts and I quickened my speed. We matched each other, his dark ghostly form and my pale skin. I loved the look of his hands covering my breasts. I pushed his hands back so I could lean in and kiss him deeply. Our breathing synced up and we moved as one.

“I can’t hold it much longer,” he said in a silky whisper.

“Come when you’re ready,” I whispered back. He flipped me over so he was back on top and started fucking me with hard, long strokes. I grabbed the headboard behind me and held on. He knew just how strong he could be without hurting me. We’d had a lot of practice. I could feel it building in me again, spreading, and then my wildfire overcame his cold. I came again as he thrust deeply into me and then I could feel his orgasm. Strong spasms ran down his body, rippling him and showing me Dean underneath. He pulled out and we lay together, with him spooning me from behind.

I could feel his warm breath on my neck. When he spoke it tickled my ear and made my desire flare from an ember to a small flame again.

“We’re getting better at this,” he whispered.

“Of course we are,” I replied, “we’ve had a lot of practice, and not all of it fucking.”

“How was the interview today?” he asked.

I pulled away and flipped over so I could face him.

“It was…” I searched for the right word, “...humiliating. I knew that I was hired to spread disinformation, but I didn’t realize that I’d be making myself look like a fool while I was doing it. It’s starting to wear on my soul. I hate my job and I hate how it’s making me feel. I need to do something else, maybe something with animals.”

He leaned forward and kissed me softly. I shook while holding back tears. He tensed, not used to seeing me cry..

My voice quavered as I continued. “I really need to quit, especially since I got another reprimand from my boss.”

“What happened?” he asked.

I told him about Disapparating in front of the Oxford Don and how I thought that I’d been experiencing emotional bleed from him, too.

“What time was that?” he asked. When I’d told him, he said, “Yeah, I was trying to project out into a dream vessel then and my instructor was yelling at me. I couldn’t concentrate and cracked the damn thing.”

“I need to quit that job, but I need the money,” I said.

“You should come live with me here at the institute. Your French is good enough that you can get a job here while I study. With your skill at potions, you could get a job anywhere, and I know you can Charm the pants off me.”

I slapped him lightly on his ass for that bad joke, but laughed at it anyway. He was studying Oneiromancy at the Advanced Research Institute in Lyons and he kept trying to get me to come with him. I don’t know why I was resisting so much. Sometimes I thought it was to stay close to Daddy, and other times that it was to stay close to Harry and Ginny. When I thought of them, Dean spoke.

“I saw your fantasy just before I was able to get into your dreams,” he said. “You should tell Ginny and Harry that you’d like to be with them. The worst they can do is say no.”

“It’s not that simple,” I said. Ginny had had feelings for Harry since she was small and she was more jealous than she knew. I knew if we tried and it didn’t work out that it could change our friendship forever, and I valued it with both Ginny and Harry. Fantasy could remain fantasy and no one would be harmed.

“I don’t know why I stay here. Maybe I’m just afraid of coming to you and I’m just making excuses.” I shifted back around so he was spooning me again.

“I’m not trying to pressure you. Just do what’s right for you and I’ll support you. If you want to stay, then stay. We’ll always be able to be together in your dreams. If you want to come down, then I’ll be here waiting for you.” He kissed me on my neck just below my ear, and his lips were his own warm lips.

We talked through the rest of our week, and he laughed at the interactions between James and Albus, saying that little boys were always the same. He told me of his classes, especially of the counselling ones. He so badly wanted to help people through their dreams, but it was dangerous. You could get caught easily in someone’s nightmare and lose yourself. His instructor was always after him to not get so entangled in his patient’s emotions, but Dean had a hard time separating his emotions from theirs.

“Oh,” he said, “I almost forgot. I met someone you’d probably like to meet. Rolf Scamander is at the institute studying with Madame Maxime over the summer, learning all about those big horses that pull their carriages.”

“Abraxan Winged Horses,” I said automatically. “They only drink single malt whiskey. Hagrid was surprised that one of them let me touch it when they were at Hogwarts.” I smiled at the memory and Dean could see it since he was still in my dream.

_It had come up to the fence of the paddock when I was watching them, and stood near me. I could barely reach its withers, even standing on my tiptoes. I reached out and touched it and it was not just warm like most horses, but actually hot. I stroked down its side and one foreleg where I could reach it over the fence. It nickered at me and nuzzled my hand in a friendly way before it cantered off._

“Fuck it!” I said suddenly and Dean jumped, both at my vehemence and at hearing me curse. He’d barely ever heard me curse and think the only time he’d heard me say “fuck” was in a command to fuck me.

“I am going to come to the Institute with you. Harry and Ginny would be happy to look after Zephira, but I’ll probably have to sell Fred and the cottage. Daddy can store my stuff at his house.” I turned my head slightly so he could see my face better.

“I want to be with you, not this long-distance thing we have now. I want you to come home to me in the evening and we can eat dinner together, talk about our days, and then make love when we go to bed.” He kissed me abruptly.

I continued after he pulled away. “I want to wake up next to you and watch you sleep until you feel you’re being watched and wake up, too.” I turned back to him again and kissed him deeply. Then the tears flowed.

“I should never have taken a job that makes me so unhappy. It’s such a stupid thing to do.”

“Shh, you’re not stupid,” he said. “You’re the least stupid person I know, and you’re definitely the one most in touch with her emotions.”

“If you’re sure this is what you want,I’ll be waiting for you.” He held me tightly and I could feel his grasp. The walls flexed a bit and I knew it was the mushrooms wearing off, which told me the dream wouldn’t last much longer either.

“I love you,” I whispered into his ear.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back and we kissed as he dissolved into wisps as I woke up to the sun streaming through my open bedroom window. I sat up and cried as Zephira circled me and head-butted me, wondering what was wrong.

Finally, I stood, wobbly-kneed and went to shower. Today would change everything; I’d quit that job, ask Ginny to look after Zephira, make arrangements to sell Fred and the cottage and go talk to Daddy. By the end of the week, I wanted to be in Lyons with Dean.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to MadiMalfoy for betaing this. Any mistakes you see are mine and not hers.


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